what is in you that hides?
what is in you that runs and yet comes back
to stay a while?
you keep things like a miser
and spends them all in one day when your beloved dies
and squanders them all like the rain
when the right time comes
when this is over
you settle like a wilting flower in the
silent city.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem